Dear Journal,
I had hoped to expose my friends to the grace and beauty of the Eladrin way of life. Instead, I am met with old wounds, disillusionment, and embarrassment at the state of Mithrendain. I should be standing proudly above my people, as a beacon of truth and hope in their time of trouble, but I am here in the dismal catacombs beneath the gorgeous city, at the edge of the Feydark.
My involvement, innocent as it may be, with Thesselonious and the demise of poor Tari are known upon the surface, and so we are forced to hide among thieves in the dark as my own people plot to undo the ancient magic which keeps the city safe from the threats of the Feydark.
At least there are some here that trust me; whose reasoning wasn't not completely lost to the lies and wickedness permeating throughout the high council of Mithrendain. I have managed to gain the trust, and hopefully the forgiveness, of Flayorn Marnon, one of the wiser council members who happens to be the uncle of the late Thesselonious.
We are guided by Sephrinia, a council member who we saved from a band of ruffians immediately upon our arrival through the portal.
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Diary ends here
